


Just Another Small Crime

by unofficialsherlockian



Series: Genesis [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Gen, Sherlock in America, pre-John
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-04
Updated: 2013-11-07
Packaged: 2017-12-31 11:17:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1031051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unofficialsherlockian/pseuds/unofficialsherlockian





	1. Martha Hudson

The woman's name was Martha Hudson and she'd contacted him through his email, though how she'd even heard of him was beyond him. They were in America, though her wording suggested that she too was from Britain. But in both countries, he was barely a name on a few policemen's lips.

However, her words also spoke kind, older woman, which could mean anything or nothing, but more specifically, her wording suggested some level of distress. And that was interesting. Besides the fact, he was itching for a case, and low on money at the moment, so any other recreational activities would have to be kept to a minimum, meaning Sherlock Holmes would otherwise be bored for a long time until the end of his acting job when he would get paid. So it was at least worth checking out. He couldn't after all chase down criminals over rooftops for the police during his entire stay in America.

'Mr Holmes, I'm glad you could make it.' Mrs Hudson welcomed him in.

She was a kind older lady, immediately asking him if he wanted food, saying he should sit and fussing. She talked alot but he was surprised that he didn't mind. Despite their usefulness, fussing old ladies tended to irritate him, but something about Mrs Hudson made him feel that she was so much more than a fusing old lady.

She on her part had opened the door to Sherlock and taken a few second to collect herself. Her friend had said an amateur detective and a good one, not a boy who was maybe 24 years old. Yet there was an oldness to his eyes of a man that had seen much despite his years; it frightened her slightly, but also made her feel that he coul help.

He was in old jeans and an open button-down and a t-shirt and despite the layers, she could tell from the thinness of his face that he was face too thin for his height. Mrs Hudson was the type to fuss and be kind, even if she didn't know the person.

So a few minutes later they were both sat down with tea and biscuits and he was already reading everything he could from her flat.

She had a husband, and would appear to everyone else to be happily married, however, the well-hidden marks on hr wrist and at the base of the back of her neck told him otherwise. Sherlock had purposefully knocked something over and observed her jump-face to badly startled for him having just knocked something over- and he'd very sincerely apologized.

Putting it simply, it was obvious that Mrs Hudson's husband was not a good man. 

'My husband was on the verge of being arrested, to be put to trial for murder,' Mrs Hudson said softly. 'But he's disappeared. I was wondering if you could find him. I can't stand the thought of him out there, capable of hurting anyone else.'

Sherlock swallowed. There was nothing but kindness in this woman and her kind, smiling eyes, and yet what he read from her was nothing but violence at home. 

'I can try. Did the police have enough evidence to implicate him for the crime?' He felt awkward, trying to conduct what might be a real examination, when people could barely take him serious because of his age and his clothes. Someday, soon, he would have to adapt a more professional appearance.

'They thought they did.' She hesitated. 'He was dealing stolen things, and doing other things for hire-he'd never discuss work, but I'd seen his emails once. He got terribly angry after that,' she said sadly and Sherlock felt a rise of fury realized she'd probably been hurt over that. The problem with domestic violence was that it was completely, and wholly wrong on every level. 

'If he's...done anything to you,' Sherlock said slowly, 'you should report him.'

She shook her head looking into his eyes sadly. 'We've all got our fair share of troubles for our choices, Mr Holmes. And we've all got to face them in our own way. I just want him found. It would be silly to make a fuss.'

He looked away and then around the room. 'There's nothing to bring him back here, is there?'

'No I don't think so,' she said, looking around as well. 'I'm fairly sure he took everything he wanted with him, he was always well-prepared where ever he went.'

There was something in her voice that suggested uncertainty, but Sherlock wasn't sure he would get anything more from this interview. 'Well, thank you for your time, Mrs Hudson. I'll let you know as soon as I hear something.' He held out his hand to her and she shook it gratefully. 'And thank you, those biscuits were wonderful.'

'Thank you dear,' she said, smiling as she waved him out.

Sherlock sighed as he walked swiftly down the road. He wasn't sure how he would approach this one, especially without any police contacts. He felt as if at this point in his career, he should keep any breaking the law to serve the law at a minimum, but if he couldn't get information, he felt he might have to.

This would be an interesting case.

'Hello, yes I'm with the Daily News, I'm wondering if you have any information on a man named Philip Hudson.' Sherlock's American accent was well-honed by now-he'd made sure to sound like he had a higher voice and a chest cold as well. 'yes you see, we wanted to cover his case-whenever you catch him.'

The policeman over the phone sighed and then asked for a moment. Sherlock smirked. Of course whatever they could give him probably wouldn't be enough, no where near the length of case files, but if he could solve it without breaking into a police database, that would be better for everyone.

'Okay I can give you some information. Would you be able to give me an email address?'

Sherlock grinned faintly, and recited one of the three emails had he made to use in cases such as this one. The policeman thanked him and said he would be sending an email soon.

Sherlock hung up the phone, still smiling. That had gone alot better than he had hoped.There was a noise from his laptop, open to his email, and Sherlock shot over to it and began reading for a while before he realized he would be late if he didn't leave soon. He decided he would finish reading after-there didn't seem to be too much of a rush on this case.

 

Two hours later, he was back to his email, shoving a sandwich in his mouth. His eyes darted over the article quickly studying it, and then he froze, laying the sandwich down.

Mrs Hudson had been pushed -or had fallen, as the police statement said-down some stairs some time ago, breaking her hip. This had happened earlier in the year while Philip Hudson was being investigated for committing another crime. Sherlock felt himself clench his fists in anger.

This woman had been nothing but kind, despite not knowing him at all. Nothing but kind, even though she'd probably lived through hell with her husband.

Then his eyes caught something else in the article: Police have yet to recover Philip Hudson's laptop, which they believe will add instrumental evidence to the case. 

Sherlock was on his feet in a second, and out the door just as quickly. He needed to find that laptop, and then find Mr Hudson, and make sure he swing for the murder and whatever other crimes he had committed, as well as hurting his wife.

 

'You have no idea where it is?'

Mrs Hudson shook her head. 'No dear, I told you, he never talked about his work with me.' She sighed heavily.'I just want this to be over.'

'It will be, once we find him and the laptop to use against him...'

She looked at him for a long time and then put her hand on his left forearm. Sherlock squirmed a little, as if she's be able to feel the needle scars through his sleeve.

'He contacted me. Last night. He called and told me to bring the laptop to him, to come alone. And then he would let me be.' She looked at him with deploring eyes. 'Please stay out of this, Sherlock Holmes. I don't want anyone else to get hurt in this.'

'It's not me that my concern is for,' Sherlock muttered. 'He pushed you, didn't he? It said in the police case that you had an accident on the stairs, that was him.' He looked in her wide, sad eyes. 'And the bruises on your wrists, not quiet healed...he's hurt you and he shouldn't get away with it. What if he hurts you tonight?'

'He'll be gone afterward.' She looked at him deploringly. 'Please don't get involved. You didn't hear what he said over the phone.'

He swallowed heavily. Then he stood swiftly and went to the door.

'Mr Holmes.' He turned to face her. 'I know the signs that you don't take care of yourself well enough, please, just this once, please do take care of yourself.'

He put a hand on her shoulder tenderly, looking into her eyes. 'But who'll take care of you, Mrs Hudson?' He smiled sadly. 'And call me Sherlock, please.' Then he turned and left.


	2. Resolve

When it had gotten dark, Mrs Hudson finally emerged from her house and went into her garage, coming out in a car. Sherlock extinguished his cigarette and followed her, far behind, from the sidewalk. he knew he could follow her on the other streets, keeping track of her at intersections until she reached her destination. Whatever she said, Sherlock was not going to let her walk up to a killer/abusive husband alone.

Mrs Hudson eventually led him to an abandoned garage, a distance away from the town. Sherlock smirked at how uncreative criminals were-it was always something abandoned. He crouched behind a wall until he saw Mrs Hudson go in and then he followed.

Philip Hudson was talking angrily to his wife. 'Are you SURE you weren't followed?' he asked loudly.

'She didn't know, but she was,' Sherlock said, stepping behind Philip.

In a flash, Mr Hudson had a gun in his hand and had hit Sherlock over the head with it, a spurt of blood coming from the contact of metal with the young man's skull. He crumpled to the ground and lay motionless.

'Sherlock!' Mrs Hudson cried, then looked at he husband. 'What if you'd killed him? Philip, you're already wanted for murder...'

Mr Hudson crouched over Sherlock. 'Still breathing. Fucking nosy worthless kid.'

'That's enough!' Mrs Hudson said loudly. 'Will you just take the laptop and leave? Me and him?'

Mr Hudson advanced on her. 'Why should I leave him? He'd have me arrested. Brought to trail and hung, probably. I'd be better off just killing him,' he said, with a sidelong glance to Sherlock's motionless form. Mrs Hudson gasped and he turned back to her. 'And you, you worthless bitch, you had him follow me. You want me arrested, don't you?' He raised his hand to hit her.

Sherlock sprang up from the ground, only wavering slightly before he had his arm's around Philip Hudson's neck, wrestling him to the ground. Mrs Hudson tugged the gun from his grasp and then Sherlock managed to slam Mr Hudson's head on the concrete floor, knocking him out. 

'Are you alright?' he asked Mrs Hudson, who had tears in her eyes as she dropped the gun. She nodded, sniffling slightly.'It's okay now,' Sherlock said gently, then winced, pressing a hand to his head as he stood, and dialed 911 on his mobile.

While he was explaining the details of their location to the officer, Mrs Hudson watched him for a bit before gently feeling where he'd been hit. Sherlock let in a quick gasp of breath as he hung up, flinching away from her careful touch.

'You need a hospital, Sherlock.' Her eyes were nothing but concern. 'You're bleeding alot.'

'It's nothing,' he muttered, mistakenly shaking his head and blinking as the room spun. 'I need to leave before the police get here. Would you like to stop by the hotel where I'm staying tomorrow or would you prefer I came to your house again?'

'I think I've had quite enough of that house, if it's all the same to you,' she told him with a quiet chuckle. He smiled and gave her his address. 

'Call me if you need me tonight-I left you my mobile number in one of the emails I sent you.'

She nodded and then hesitantly pulled him into a hug. 'Thank you,' she said quietly. 'I'm sorry for bringing you into this.' Then she held him at arm's length. 'Go rest that head. If you're still disoriented when I see you tomorrow, I'm dragging you to the hospital myself.'

Sherlock chuckled and headed out.

 

When he'd gotten back to the hotel, he put his hands in his pockets and swore. He'd somehow managed to lose his keys. Sherlock had hoped to have avoided the front desk, where they would undoubtably question his bleeding head, but now he needed to ask for another key.

'Lost mine,' he muttered to the man at the front desk.

'Need a ride to the hospital there, kid?' the man said, handing him the key.

'No thank you,' Sherlock said sharply and the man shrugged before Sherlock turned away.

When he got to his room, Sherlock downed three ibuprofen tablets and a glass of water, still feeling dizzy and nauseous. Of course he would managed to get a concussion from this quick a case. He waited until the pain had subsided more before laying down on his bed and quickly falling asleep.

 

Sherlock awoke to sensing that there was someone in his hotel room. Swearing mentally, he shot up from the corner of the bed and blinked to see Mrs Hudson in the middle of putting a box on the table in the room.

'What?' Sherlock asked blearily, his brain not registering what was happening.

'I called you, dear, you didn't pick up. You'd dropped your keys at the scene, thought I'd bring them back.' She chuckled. 'When you didn't come to the door I thought you must be out so I'd leave the box here and the keys at the front desk.'

Sherlock stood and crossed to the room to peer inside the box. 'Food?' he asked, confused.

'Of course. You're far too thin. And I'll only be cooking for one person now,' she explained.

Sherlock smiled thinly. He had plans to email the police today about the domestic abuse Mrs Hudson had to face on top of Philip Hudson's crimes. The two murders alone would be enough to see him dead, but Sherlock would feel better if it was done in justice from Mrs Hudson as well. 'Thank you,' he said sincerely.

Mrs Hudson nodded. 'How's that head of yours?'

'Nothing a little aspirin won't take care of.' He stood for a while, watching her fondly-and he realized with some surprise how fondly he thought of her already. 'What will you do now?'

She shrugged. 'Head back to London. I've wanted to-I miss it. And now that this is all over.' She smiled at him. 'But I need to get going dear.' And she pulled him into a hug, saying softly, 'Thank you.'

He nodded and hugged her back, surprisingly not adverse to it. 'I won't be in town much longer,' he said as she walked out the door. 'Will you let me know when his trial ends?'

She smiled. 'Yes of course.'

They stayed in touch ever since.


End file.
